Disclaimer:

I do not own Weißß Kreuz or any of its characters. I just love them to no end and have a very twisted imagination. Please be aware that I am extremely poor so suing me will do you no good. Thanks.

Warning: Lemon Yaoi - Hints of Yuri / Hardcore Rape / Violence / Explicit Language / Angst / AU

Pairings: Ran x Yohji / Ken + Omi / Birman + Manx

FYI: Inner thoughts - [ Flashback ]

Author's Notes:

Hey, everyone. Here we have CoT's chapter nine. Get ready for more angst, sappiness, and lime. Please be warned that the lime applies to Ken and Omi, so don't be shocked when you find our two young bishies in a very heated situation. What can I say? I'm a bad influence. ^_~

Thanks to everyone who've been patiently waiting for this installment. Thank you so very much for your encouraging threats . . . 'er . . . words. And as always, I give out my heartfelt thanks to my wonderful betas, Anney and Nev.

Okay, that's all for now. Enjoy the fic and please review! Feedback is always appreciated.

Thanks,

Forsaken

Circle of Time

Ran approached Yohji's room cautiously, afraid to intrude anymore than he already had. He couldn't help but feel that way. Not after the scene he'd witnessed a few minutes ago. He may be Yohji's lover, but the blonde's past was his own. Granted, Yohji had shared his dark memories with him, revealing things that probably even Shiro Kudou didn't know about, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow overstepping his bounds. Ran sighed, as he came up to the doorway and focused his gaze on the huddled form on the bed just a few feet away. Get over this, idiot. He needs you right now. You're his lover, dammit. Start acting like it.

Taking a deep breath, Ran came to stand in front of Yohji, his gut clenching with worry and anxiety. God, I hope I do this right. "Are you okay?"

Yohji raised his head from where he'd been resting it on his up drawn knees, looking up at Ran with troubled green eyes. "No," his lover replied with a wobbly grin, as he shook his head.

Ran swallowed and went down on his knees. Holding onto the bed for support, he stared into Yohji's red-rimmed eyes and waited for the blonde to talk to him, somehow sensing that it was what Yohji wanted most right now.

"I'm scared, Ran. So scared," came the shaky whisper after a moment of silence.

Ran took hold of Yohji's hand, pulling it away from the knee it had been wrapped around. "I know . . . But you know your dad's here and that he won't let anything happen to you."

Yohji nodded and sniffled, stretching out his legs until they were hanging over the bed. "I know, but . . . it's hard to ignore that little kid inside of me that's scared shitless right now. I mean, I know my dad will do everything he can to keep me safe, but . . . , " Yohji's hand tightened over Ran's, "Ikari's a smart sonofabitch, Ran. I'm just afraid that he'll find a way to get to me."

Anger and fear welled up inside of Ran, as he watched the turbulent emotions playing over Yohji's face. He shouldn't be going through this, dammit. God, he wanted to say something meaningful, something that would help Yohji. But what could he possible say to make this fucked up situation better? Yohji's biological father was free once again, and until the man was caught, his lover was in danger.

The fear Yohji was experiencing was justifiable. Ran didn't doubt Yohji's words. Ikari was smart indeed. When Shiro Kudou had told them the details of Ikari's escape after Yohji had calmed down, Ran had sat there, holding Yohji close to him, trying to contain his anger and shock. From the information Shiro had been given, it had been determined that Ikari had killed another inmate, had somehow changed his appearance enough to impersonate him, and had boldly climbed into a prison bus heading out for cleanup duty, a bus he'd eventually managed to escape from. Who wouldn't be afraid of such a man? On top of everything else, it appeared that Ikari hadn't acted alone during his escape, making the already intense situation all the more complicated and dangerous.

Dammit, I wish I could do something to protect him. What could he do though? He wasn't a trained professional like Yohji's dad. He was just a sixteen-year-old orphan with an attitude and a far from stable home. There has to be something I can do. I can't stand seeing him like this.

"He killed my mother, you know," Yohji whispered.

Ran's eyes widened at Yohji's startling revelation, his thoughts scurrying away in an instant. "What?"

Emerald eyes looked at him without really seeing him, as Yohji lost himself in his memories. "She was naked and bleeding, crying out to him, trying to make him stop. But he wouldn't. He just kept hitting her. I tried to stop him, tried to get him to focus on me instead, but it only worked for a little while." Yohji swallowed, as his voice began to break. "He got me good. Almost knocked me out. I sometimes wish he had. Maybe then I wouldn't have seen him going at her again, kicking her over and over . . . There was blood all over the place, coming out of her mouth, her ears. . . ."

Yohji was trembling now, his face wet with tears, and Ran moved onto the bed, needing to be closer to his tormented lover. God, Yohji. Oh, God.

"I tried to get to her," Yohji continued, his voice began to hitch, agony lacing his every word, "But I couldn't ---- I couldn't, Ran. She needed me, and I couldn't reach her. I couldn't help her."

"Yohji ----"

Blonde stands of hair whirled in the air, as Yohji shook his head, his voice taking on an almost hysterical tone. "I didn't help her, Ran! She died because I couldn't save her!"

"Stop it!" Ran exclaimed, grabbing Yohji by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "It wasn't your fault! She died because of Ikari, not because of you!"

Yohji began to cry then, his hands fisting into the material of Ran's shirt, as each wretched cry was torn from him, and Ran pulled Yohji to him, nearly crushing the blonde against his chest. Running his hand up and down Yohji's back, trying to soothe his lover as best as he could, Ran tried to hold back his own tears, but he couldn't stop himself from reacting to the pain ripping through his lover.

Anger drummed through him, becoming stronger and stronger with his every breath, and Ran could feel the familiar urge to lash out, the need to become violent, once again rise within him. No, calm down. Calm down, his mind commanded. It was hard though. The man he loved was trembling against him, hurt beyond imagining by the one person that should've protected and cared for him. How could he not react with rage, with the desire to exact revenge in his lover's stead?

[ Anger, uncontrolled and without purpose, leads its bearer into acts of foolishness and humiliation. Never allow yourself to lose your focus or your dignity, Ran. It will never be worth it if you do. ]

Ran let out a breath, allowing the words his father had spoken to him years ago to calm him. But there were times, like now, that even his father's words could barely hold him back from exploding. His unpredictable temper was the reason why he'd been placed in the program at the Koneko in the first place, and it shamed him greatly. You don't want another repeat of that, do you? he asked himself. You lost it, completely lost it, and you hurt someone. How are you going to help Yohji by turning into a brainless animal? He needs you to be there for him, to be strong and helpful, not some moron lacking control over his temper!

Taking deep breaths, Ran allowed the almost sizzling anger to drain from his system, thoughts of Yohji serving to quell his temper further. "It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault." Ran closed his eyes, chanting the words over and over again, as Yohji's arms tightened around him.

After a few minutes, the quiet sobs died away, and Ran breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Yohji had finally calmed down. He pulled away slightly and looked into Yohji's tear-streaked face.

"Thanks," Yohji whispered, his voice still thick with tears. Pulling away even more, Yohji turned his face away, wiping his face hurriedly, obviously embarrassed. "Shit, I didn't mean to cry like a damn baby. I'm sorry."

Ran shook his head, pulling at Yohji's hair gently. "Idiot."

Yohji peered at him from underneath his now messy blonde hair and grinned slightly. "Oh, how you soothe me."

Ran smirked, but then grew serious. "It 'is' going to be okay," he said, knowing full well that it probably wasn't. Life was too unpredictable and often too cruel to even think that it would be, but Ran couldn't bring himself to be realistic at the moment. All he wanted was to chase away the haunted look with Yohji's eyes.

"I hope so."

Ran stared at Yohji, feeling a bit nervously, dubious of what he was getting himself into by prying into Yohji's past. "Yohji?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever tell anyone about . . . about your mother's death?" Ran asked. Or did you keep this to yourself all this time? Looking into the blonde's shuddered expression, Ran somehow knew that Yohji had indeed kept his mother's murder a secret. God, Yohji. I'm so sorry.

"No, I didn't tell anyone," Yohji replied, lowering his gaze to stare at Ran's chest. "Ikari threatened to kill me if I ever said anything. So I didn't. Not ever . . . Until now."

Ran gently slid his fingers along Yohji's cheek. "How old were you?"

"Five, I think. I . . . I don't really remember anymore. I've tried not to think about that night."

"You were only a boy, Yohji. A frightened little boy. Don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control."

Yohji nodded and sighed. "I keep trying to tell myself that, but . . . It's hard. Even back then, I was never really just a boy."

What could he say to that? "I'm sorry," said Ran, wishing he could be more articulate with his words.

Taking a deep breath, Yohji shook his head. "All of this shit happened years ago, yet it can still fuck me up. Sometimes, I have panic attacks. Memories just come out of nowhere and I freak out. It's a real pain in the ass."

"You should talk to someone about this," Ran suggested, afraid for Yohji's mental well being. "Maybe Manx or Birman could ----"

"No!" Yohji interrupted fiercely.

Ran frowned. "Why? It'll probably help you."

Yohji glared at him. "No. It's none of their business."

Ran sighed. Great, now he's mad. I'm already screwing this up.

"Sorry," Yohji whispered, the anger gone from his voice. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's okay. I understand." Trying to think of something 'smart' to say, Ran's violet eyes roamed the room and happened to glance at the clock on the night stand. Shit! Our shift starts in twenty minutes. Damn, I don't want to go. I don't want to leave him here alone.

"It's getting late," Yohji said suddenly, as if reading Ran's thoughts. "We'd better get going."

Ran placed a hand on Yohji's shoulder, as the blonde moved to get up. "You're in no shape to go in to work, Yohji. You should stay here. I'll explain things to Manx and Birman."

Shaking his head, Yohji gently pushed Ran's hand away. "No, Ran. I have to go in. You know that. Besides, I can't just sit here doing nothing. I'll worry myself to death. Nah, I'm going with you."

Yohji kissed him then, and Ran lost track of his thoughts. The next thing he knew, Yohji was already in the hallway. Ran scowled and followed Yohji out of the room. "Are you sure?" he asked, worry for his lover clenching his insides.

Yohji nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure." Pausing near the stairs, Yohji turned to him. "I don't want to be here, Ran. I'd much rather be at the Koneko with you and the others. And . . . it'll keep my mind busy."

Ran sighed, understanding Yohji's need to keep himself preoccupied and in the presence of his friends. He didn't like it though. Not one bit. Yohji would be out in the open, vulnerable. But I can't expect him to stay cooped up in here though. Besides, Ran thought, as he looked at the back of Yohji's blonde head, I want him with me. I can keep an eye on him that way and make sure he's safe.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were both surprised to see Yohji's father waiting for them.

"Hey, Dad."

Shiro's concerned eyes searched Yohji's face. "How are you holding up?"

Yohji sighed. "I'm okay. Jeez, you two need to lighten up."

Shiro looked at Ran, a small grin playing at his lips. "Didn't listen to you, did he?"

Ran crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at Yohji. "He's too stubborn for his own good."

"Found that out years ago. Haven't been able to get him out of the habit."

Yohji placed his hands on his hips. "Hey, I am here, you know? Stop talking about me. Come on, Ran. We're going to be late."

"Let's go then," responded Shiro.

Ran blinked, as Yohji looked at his father in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Dad, you can't give us a ride. You need to get some sleep. Your shift starts in a few hours."

Shiro ignored Yohji's protests and put on his jacket, grabbing his car keys from the small glass dish on the coffee table as he passed it. "I'm just as stubborn as you are, kid, so stop arguing with me. I'm taking you to the shop and that's final."

Watching Yohji's father step outside, Ran couldn't help but smile. Stubborn indeed.

Yohji turned to him with an indignant glare. "Can you believe him?" the blonde asked, his hand motioning toward the open front door.

Ran shook his head. "Yes, I do. He's a Kudou after all."

Yohji stared at him for a minute, before he grinned. "Smart ass. I've got two of you to deal with now. Man, I'm a masochist!"

Yohji continued to rant and rave, as they both exited the house and walked over to where Shiro's patrol car was parked in the narrow driveway. Cold air hit him, as they climbed into the car, running up his spine, and Ran couldn't help but shiver, apprehension once again reminding him of the situation they were in. He looked at Yohji, who was now arguing with his father about changing the station on the radio to something less nauseating, and Ran took a deep breath. Stop worrying. Everything's going to be okay.

But as another chill ran along his back, prompting him to move closer to Yohji, Ran could only hope with all of his might that Fate wouldn't once again prove him wrong.

"Ken?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Ken turned toward Omi. "Yeah?"

Omi frowned a little, as he walked up to him. "Are you okay? You seem a little out of it."

Ken sighed. He never could hide anything for long from Omi. "It's just . . . It's my grandfather."

Omi's eyes softened. "Oh . . . Do you want to talk about it?"

"I do . . . and I don't." Ken ran a hand through his brown locks. "Does that make any sense?"

Omi nodded, as he took a seat next to Ken. "Yeah. I feel that way too sometimes."

Forgetting about the arrangement he 'hadn't' been working on, Ken leaned back into his chair, letting his arms hang loosely at his sides, and stared up at the white ceiling. Having arrived at the Koneko about fifteen minutes ago, Birman had informed them that today was to be their first group counseling session. The news had immediately brought Ken's problems to mind. "My grandfather hates me."

"He does?"

"Yeah. I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at me." Ken swallowed. "And it hurts. I try to ignore it, to ignore 'him', but I can't. No matter how much I try, I just can't."

"Why would he hate you?" Omi asked him quietly.

Ken shifted his gaze away from the ceiling and onto Omi's beautiful face. You're so innocent sometimes, Omi. Then again, I shouldn't expect you to know about stuff like this. You're rich, you have a mom and a dad, you're smart and beautiful. You probably have the perfect life. I hate to admit it . . . but I'm actually jealous of you sometimes. Damn, does that make me an asshole? Ken sighed inwardly. Probably. "Because I remind him of my mom," he replied. "I remind him of the daughter who disobeyed him and married someone he hadn't approved of."

Ken looked away from Omi again, once again focusing on the ceiling. "You know, I met my grandfather for the first time five years ago when I showed up on his doorstep with a social worker. I'd seen grandma on occasion here and there, but never my grandfather. He was a stranger to me . . . He still is."

A hand gently took hold of his limp one, snapping Ken away from his morbid ranting. He looked at Omi, and felt his heart melt into one big puddle, seeing the love clearly within Omi's blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," said Omi sincerely, as he reached out with his hand and cupped Ken's face. "I wish that there was something I could say or do to make you feel better."

Ken smiled for what seemed to be the first time today, as he leaned into Omi's touch. "You already do make me feel better," he responded without hesitation. "Just knowing that I have you, that you're always here for me, makes all of this bullshit easier to deal with." Man, Omi really had changed him, Ken realized. He would've never been able to say such things a few weeks ago.

Omi's face lit up, as a blush spread across his cheeks. "I feel the same way about you."

Ken tilted his head, his blue-green gaze searching Omi's dazzling eyes. He was suddenly curious to know a bit more about Omi's home life. "What's your family like, Omi? You never talk about them."

Omi pulled his hand away and looked down at his feet. "They're alright, I guess."

Ken hadn't missed the look of sadness that had dimmed the other boy's eyes. Did I say something wrong? Damn. ""Hey, if I'm being too nosey, just say so. I won't get offended or anything." It would hurt though. But Ken would never admit it.

It was Omi's turn to sigh. "No you're not being nosey. It's just that my . . . family isn't the greatest either."

Ken frowned. Huh?

Seeing his confused expression, Omi grinned slightly at him. "What? Did you think that because my family's loaded I'd be the happiest person around?"

Ken couldn't help but look a little embarrassed. It 'was' exactly what he'd thought. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.

Omi smirked and once again looked down at his white sneakers. "My life isn't a happy one, Ken. Before I came here, before I met you and the guys, I was pretty much by myself all of the time. Being rich doesn't necessarily mean that I have a ton of friends or that I'm popular. In fact, I've been pretty much teased and cursed at because of it. I don't have any friends at school, save for a very selected few and even then, they're just acquaintances. And as for my parents . . .," Omi paused, his hands clenching over his lap. "They pretty much ignore me. I see them during breakfast and dinner, and we have the usual polite conversation, but that's about it. They don't talk 'to' me. They just talk 'at' me. Well, except when I screw up. That's when my father dutifully reminds me of how worthless I am," Omi voice wavered, his eyes still latched onto his feet, "of how much of a disappointment I am to him."

Hurt welled up inside of Ken, as he watched Omi struggle with his emotions. Hearing Omi sound so forlorn, so miserable, was something he couldn't handle. It made him want to punch someone. Namely Omi's father. Shit, and here I thought that 'I' had it bad. Not really knowing what to say, Ken spoke from his heart. "I'm really sorry, Omi. I guess . . . Damn, we're both just sooo fucked up."

Omi looked at him, his large eyes full of unshed tears, and suddenly began to laugh. Ken, realizing how ridiculous he'd just sounded, couldn't help but join in. After a few minutes of hysterical laughter, they looked at each other, and before Ken knew it, Omi was straddling his legs, hugging him fiercely. He could feel the slender body in his arms trembling, and Ken closed his eyes, placing his chin on Omi's shoulder, as he hugged his boyfriend to him as if he were never letting go.

How long they stayed that way, in each other's arms, their bodies molded against each other, Ken didn't know. He didn't care either. Yeah, they were in the backroom of the Koneko, where at any moment someone could walk in on them, but right now, as he felt Omi's warmth, felt his body responding to Omi's closeness, Ken found himself fully erect and incapable of processing a rational thought. When Omi shifted against him, bringing their bodies even closer together, Ken couldn't hold back the tidal wave of emotions consuming him. He pulled away from Omi, just enough to see his face, and moved in to devour the lips that were forever fascinating him.

Long fingers threaded through his hair, rubbing sensually over his scalp, and Ken moaned, losing himself completely to the passion overriding his system. Clumsily, his hands made their way underneath Omi's blue shirt, and Ken felt his penis harden at the feel of the warm skin beneath his fingertips. Omi moaned into his mouth, and Ken felt as if his heart was about to burst through his chest. Everything inside of him was tightening, feeling unbearably hot, and Ken honestly didn't know what was going on. He'd never felt these feelings before, never felt his body react to another person in such a way. Sure, he'd masturbated. What guy hadn't at his age? But this was different. This was much more intense and demanding, sending Ken into the unknown.

Omi whimpered, as Ken took a hardened nub in between his fingers and began to tease it, each sound coming from Omi's parted lips serving to intensify his raging hormones. "God, Omi . . . What's happening?" he asked, his voice husky and deep, before he lowered his lips to the slender column of Omi's neck.

Omi arched against him, his body trembling. "I don't know . . . but I like it. I really like it."

Ken groaned at Omi's words, and released the hard nipples he'd been toying with so that he could grasp his boyfriend's hips. Experimentally, he thrust upward, pressing their lower bodies together, and they both gasped in amazement at the pleasure that speared through them.

"Shit, Omi. I want to . . . I want to . . . I don't know what I want."

"Should we stop?" Omi rasped, as they looked at each other.

Panting, Ken shook his head fervently, his eyes glazed with lust and need. "Hell no."

They were moving back and forth against one another, causing the chair to creak beneath them, and Ken felt just about ready to explode. Again, he thrust forward, and felt his lower belly beginning to clench almost painfully, as Omi pressed down onto him. He knew the feeling building up inside of him, knew what was about to happen, and he reached for it, needing to find completion. "God, I think I'm gonna . . .," Ken's voice trailed away, as his body suddenly shattered into a billion pieces. Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!

Seconds later, the legs around his waist tightened, and Ken gasped, as Omi lowered his mouth to his shoulder and bit down hard. After a minutes of panting and mindless gaping, Omi fell limply against his chest, and Ken raised his heavy arms around him, keeping him close.

When he could once again speak, Ken uttered the first words that came to his befuddled mind. "I love you, Omi. I really do love you."

Omi sighed into his neck. "I love you, too. So very much."

Relief washed over Ken, allowing him to breathe, and he smiled with absolute joy, knowing he'd said the right thing. He pulled away from Omi and looked into the shining eyes of the boy he'd come to cherish above all else. "Does that mean we can do this again?"

Omi chuckled, the pink hue over his cheeks deepening. "Yes. I would love that."

Ken leaned forward and kissed Omi slowly and thoroughly. When he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily again. Thinking a bit more clearly, he swallowed, feeling shy all of a sudden. "'Um, I guess we better finish our work."

Nodding his head, Omi lowered his arms from around him, and leaned back. "Yeah, we'd better." Blue eyes suddenly widened. "You don't think anyone heard us, do you?"

Ken blinked. Holy shit. We 'were' kind of loud. Ken cleared his throat. "I'm sure they didn't." At least, I hope they didn't. Thank God, Yohji and Ran hadn't arrived yet. Yohji would've barged in on them for sure.

Obviously relieved, Omi climbed off of him and stood on his feet. "Is it me," Omi asked, as he fanned his face with his hand, "or is it hot in here?"

Feeling a little warm himself, Ken stood up on surprisingly shaky legs. "A little." Something damp pressed against his inner thigh, and Ken winced. He looked down at his pants, raising his t-shirt out of the way, and groaned at the sight of the dark stain near his crotch. "Shit."

Omi mirrored his movements and his eyes widened in dismay. "Oh, man. What are we going to do?" he asked with a trace of panic in his voice.

"Calm down. Let's go to the bathroom and clean up a bit. Our t-shirts are long enough to . . . ah . . . cover us up, so no one will notice. Okay?"

"Okay."

Omi moved to walk to the bathroom when Ken suddenly reached out for him, wrapping his arm around the teen's thin waist, and kissed Omi breathless once again. Forcing himself to put a leash on his raging hormones, Ken took a step back and held out his hand. "Let's go."

Looking at the top of Omi's head, as they walked hand in hand alongside each other toward the washroom, Ken smiled, realizing that he felt ten times better. Our lives may be hard, shitty really, but we've got each other now. Nothing's ever going to change that. Fuck everyone else.

All we need is each other.

Pulling up to the curb in front of the Koneko, Yohji's eyes darted back and forth, a part of him searching for the cloaked man who had yet to cease haunting him. He was about to open the car door when his father turned to him.

"If you see someone out of the ordinary, if 'anything' seems kind of strange, tell Birman or Manx right away, got it?"

Yohji nodded, although he didn't really want to bring his problems to the attention of the two women. "Yeah, I got it. Don't worry, Dad. I'll be okay," he said, trying to not only convince his father, but himself as well.

Shiro sighed, before he looked over at Ran. "You keep at eye out, too. I can trust 'you', at least."

Yohji glared at his father. The man knew him too well it seemed.

Ran nodded in response to Shiro's request. "I will."

Dark eyes focused on Yohji once again. "I know it's going to be hard, to not think about 'him', but try, okay? Keep in mind that Mase and I are doing all that we can to track Ikari down and catch the bastard."

"Yeah, I will." Yohji grinned. "Besides, maybe all of this crap about me being followed is just a coincidence ---- my imagination running wild on me."

His father grinned back, but his eyes remained deadly serious. "Maybe. Just do like I told you."

Getting out of the car, Yohji walked over to the passenger seat. Ran came to stand by his side, as he leaned forward a bit and placed his chin on his folded arms, looking at his father with a lopsided grin. "You know I love you, right old man?"

Shiro smiled, his black eyes finally lighting up. "Yeah. Same goes for me, kid. Same goes."

Moving away from the car, Yohji watched his father pull away, feeling a tug at his heart. I really do love you, Dad. You saved me, and I'll never forget that.

"You okay?"

Yohji nodded and turned around to face his lover. Warmth filled him at the sight of Ran's gorgeous face. ""Yeah. Just a little nervous about this whole mess." Yohji sighed. "Why is life so complicated, Ran? Why is it such a bitch all of the time?" Yes, he was sounding a bit morbid, but dammit, who wouldn't be if they had to deal with this shit?

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulder and Yohji's eyes widened, as he stared at his usually unaffectionate boyfriend.

"I don't know why things are the way they are, but we'll deal with it . . . Together."

Yohji leaned forward, and taking advantage of Ran's moment of 'weakness', kissed the redhead with all of the love he could muster. When he was done plundering Ran's mouth, Yohji took a step back and smiled. "Yeah, we'll do this together."

A bit flushed by the passion Yohji's kiss had invoked, Ran nodded and turned toward the shop's door, pulling Yohji along with him. Yohji couldn't help but smile. Maybe I'm not just bullshitting. Maybe everything will be alright. I have my dad, my friends, and I have you, Ran. I have you.

The bell above the door jingled loudly, signaling their arrival, and Yohji glared up at it. He really hated that thing.

Birman looked up from the book she'd been perusing at the register, as the door closed behind them. "Hey, guys."

"Hey," they replied simultaneously, as they walked up to the counter.

"I hope you guys are ready for today's session."

Yohji blinked at the woman, totally clueless.

Birman sighed at his expression, rolling her eyes at them both. "You too? Jeez."

"Shit," Ran cursed quietly beside him.

Yohji looked over at his now glaring boyfriend. "What?"

A pained and worried look passed over Ran's features. "Today's our first group counseling session."

Counseling . . . No fucking way. Dammit. Not now. He'd completely forgotten about it. Dammit, dammit!!! Yohji took a deep breath, and looked at Birman, about to ask to be excused, but he suddenly found himself unable to speak, unable to utter a sound. His chest tightened up, and Yohji was finding it hard to breathe.

"Yohji?" a voice asked, from what seemed to be far away.

Yohji knew it was Ran, could hear the concern in that one call of his name, but he honest to God couldn't respond. The edges of his vision were blurring, darkening with every passing second, and Birman's shocked face was beginning to dim from his sight. The room began to spin, faster and faster, and Yohji wished he could kick himself in the ass for allowing a panic attack to hit him so hard and at such an inopportune time. "Shit," he managed to whisper, just as his legs gave out from under him.

Then darkness greeted him, and Yohji knew no more.

"What the hell?" exclaimed Mika, as Yohji passed out right in front of her eyes. She rushed around the counter, just as Ran managed to catch Yohji in his arms. "What's wrong with him?"

But Ran wasn't paying attention to her, his panicked eyes were focused on Yohji and no one else. "Yohji? Yohji, wake up," the redhead pleaded, his voice betraying his fear. "Dammit, Yohji."

"What happened?" Akemi asked, as she hurried toward them.

Shaking her head, Mika swallowed, her heart ramming against her chest. "I have no idea. He just fainted."

Having obtained medical training long ago, Akemi proficiently took Yohji's pulse and checked the teen's eyes. After a few tense minutes, she blew out a breath and wiped a few blonde strands of hair away from Yohji's pale face. "He's okay. He's just unconscious. Did he hit his head?"

"No, Ran caught him in time."

"Good, then we don't have to worry about moving him."

"What's going on?"

Mika looked up at Omi and Ken, as they came running out of the backroom. "Yohji passed out. But he's okay," she quickly added, seeing the panic within the other two boys' eyes.

"Come on," Akemi told them, getting on her feet. "Let's get him upstairs. He needs to be more comfortable."

Ran quickly picked Yohji up, surprising them all with his strength. Mika figured it was adrenaline, the shock of seeing his boyfriend just shutting down, giving the kid the added strength he needed to carry Yohji so effortlessly. Mika could tell that Ken and Omi wanted to give Ran a hand, but neither boy moved under the potent glare the redhead was giving them.

Unlocking the door that led to the apartment upstairs, Birman opened it and rushed up the stairs, followed closely by the others. Once inside the apartment she shared with Akemi, she watched with worried eyes as Ran gently placed Yohji on the sofa found in the middle of the room.

"Mika, go into the kitchen and get me a wet rag. Use cold water, okay?"

Mika nodded and did as Akemi asked, trying her best to calm her nerves. Once in the kitchen, she grabbed the first rag she got her hands on, and went to the sink. Turning on the water, she realized with little surprise that her hands were shaking, as she held the blue stripped rag under the cold stream of liquid. Shit, what the hell is wrong with me? He's fine. He's going to be okay. So calm the hell down. But she was finding it easier said than done, as she squeezed the excess water out of the rag.

Moving quickly, she entered the living room and handed the rag over to her lover. Unable to stop herself, she hovered over the unconscious boy, trying to convince herself the Yohji would really be alright. God, the kid grew on me ---- They all did. Normally, she would've kicked herself in the ass for getting emotionally involved with the boys. After all, the youths were part of a program designed for the sole purpose of rehabilitation. She was not supposed to be feeling anything towards them other than having a sense of duty and responsibility for them. This . . . anxiety washing over her, this concern, was not part of the plan. But as she followed Akemi's every move, she found herself wishing she could do something to help, needing to somehow bring Yohji back to them, wanting to see those lively and sometimes perverted green eyes stare up at her once more.

Putting her confusing thoughts aside, Mika focused on Yohji's slack features, her mind pleading for the boy to wake up. Come on, Kudou. Wake up. Just wake up so that I can ream your annoying little ass for putting me through this.

"He's coming around," Akemi said, and Mika leaned forward.

"Yohji?" Ran asked once again from where he sat next to Yohji's legs. "Wake up, love."

Mika looked away from Yohji, taking a moment to stare at Ran, utterly surprised by the boy's softly spoken, yet heartfelt, words.

"Mmm . . . Nice boobs."

Mika's eyes widened in indignation and looked down at Yohji's grinning face, noting how the boy's dazed eyes were transfixed on her breasts, as she stood leaning over him. Despite the relief washing over her at the moment, Mika had to hold herself back from slapping that silly grin off of the blonde's face. About to speak her mind, she was beaten to the punch by Ran.

"Idiot," the redhead said, relief evident in the solitary word, and suddenly rushed forward, resting his forehead over Yohji, as he buried his fingers into Yohji's golden hair.

Mika's gaze shifted away from the touching scene and onto Akemi. Her eyes narrowed, as she took in the worry and apprehension in her lover's eyes. Something's up, she thought suspiciously. She could just feel it.

And whatever it was, she surmised accurately, it had something to do with Yohji. Fucking hell.

"When do we move?"

Letting the shade drop from the window he'd been looking out of, Keizo Ikari walked over to his bed and sat down. "What time does Kudou's shift begin?"

"Midnight. Six days a week," the American smirked, "and always on time."

Kei leaned back into his pillow, his eyes looking over at the mirror directly in front of his bed, and smiled. "Then we'll pay our boy a visit in two days, Marshall. Two days."

"About fucking time."

"Patience is a virtue," he said, sarcastically. Holding the phone in the crook of his shoulder, Kei grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the less than sturdy night stand next to the bed. Lighting one up, he breathed in the addictive nicotine and blew out a puff of smoke.

"Whatever." Marshall paused for a moment, before he asked, "Why the two days?"

"It'll give me time to set things up. We can't just go in there, grab the kid, and expect to get away with it clear and free of any trouble."

Marshall sighed over the phone. "Alright, I'll wait the two days. 'Green Eyes' is worth it after all."

Kei grinned. "That he is, my friend. That he is."

Hanging up the phone, Kei took another pull of his cigarette, watching the strands of smoke whirl around him, his mind already planning for the events to come.

"We'll be together again soon, Yohji," he whispered into the otherwise silent room. "And you'll remember soon enough who your father really is."

TBC. . . .

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